


The Adventures of Belnades and Belmont

by icantbelieveimadeanaccount



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 08:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20832599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantbelieveimadeanaccount/pseuds/icantbelieveimadeanaccount
Summary: Sypha and Trevor continue their journey.





	The Adventures of Belnades and Belmont

It was a cold and foggy day, the sunlight barely emerging over the rolling hills. The grass was still damp from the morning dew. It was way too early. Donis should have been at home, getting ready for breakfast. Instead, he was rudely woken in the early hours and pulled away by a frantic plea for help. It was something so urgent and abnormal, he needed to seek out his attention.

“Hurry, Donis. You have to see this. Something killed my goats.”

“Probably wild dogs. I’ll send some men to scour the area. There is no need for me to look at them.”

“It killed all my goats!” Distraught, Merek took a deep breath.  
  
As tired as he was, he wasn’t going to send him away and the tone of his voice troubled him. Merek wasn’t the type to overreact, nor was he the type of person to look for help. He always handled things on his own.

It wasn’t long before they reached the pasture and a gruesome sight awaited them. The field was dotted blood red with goat carcasses and the stench was unfathomable.

“I told you! This is horrible. How am I supposed to survive with my herd gone.”

Donis placed a handkerchief over his nose while he crouch down to inspect one of the goats. The eyes wide open, the poor thing was ripped apart, its internal organs eaten and a think dark goo covered its entrails. Whatever creature did this, it was very strong. The side of the rib cage was smashed to pieces.

“I don’t like the look of it. What do you think could have done this?”

“I don’t know,” Donis said slowly as he stood back up. The shadows among the trees seemed intimidating now as if hid a horrible unnatural secret.

*****

Dracula’s castle was nothing but a speck on the horizon, which one would think was a good thing, but the weather had abruptly taken on a rather ominous, chilly feeling. Sypha stared sleepily at dying ember, unconsciously pulling her robe tighter around herself. She and Trevor had set up camp for the night off the dirt road. After a hearty meal courtesy of the hunter, she was ready for a good night’s rest. Trevor was attending to something. Sypha didn’t know what or particularly care. If it involved his weapons, she had no interest.

She glanced over to the covered wagon and then to the emaciated horses. They had seen better days, but at least they were holding up. Trevor had unhitched them from wagon and tied them off to nearby foliage, where they grazed. Despite the movement of life, everything somehow seemed strangely quiet, something Sypha was not used to and found a little unsettling. A growing feeling of nervousness had crept over her.

Why did this night seemed so uneasy to her? Dracula was defeated, the catastrophe averted. The world should be bright and hopeful.

Then realization washed over her crystal clear. This was her first night alone with Trevor. No Speakers, no Alucard, just she and him. Not that there was anything to be apprehensive about, she trusted him completely, but she wondered if their traveling routines would change in any way without Alucard around. She wondered how their future would unfold.

Once again, her mind drifted to the Story from the future. She knew it very well, having memorized the whole thing as a child. To her, it seemed incredible that half of it had already come to pass. It was obvious the Story wasn’t going to fulfill itself on its own, that it needed her to be more assertive, but exactly how much? She had gotten to this juncture because of her persuasion and persistence. So now what? Truthfully, from this point forward she was feeling less confident about herself and the other half of the Story, the half pertaining to her and Trevor.

Imagine that. Vanquishing Dracula, the lord of vampires, was a much less a daunting task than figuring out the mind of Trevor Belmont.

“Sypha, take off your robe,” Trevor said impatiently.

This snapped her out of her trance. She peered up to see Trevor standing in front of her holding something in his hands.

Wasn’t it too soon for something like that, she thought in a sudden panic.

When she didn’t comply or say anything in return, Trevor left out a breath of annoyance. “For god’s sake, I need to change your dressing. It’s already soaked with blood. If it doesn’t get changed, it’s going to get worse.”

Her dressing? She could only blink blankly at him. It took a few moments before she understood him and relaxed. Her bandaged shoulder. After pulling off her robe and untying her smock, he proceeded to redress her injuries. Sypha hugged her robe to her chest all the while he worked.

“Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” she replied, trying too hard to hold still. Exposed to the cold air, her shoulder throbbed with pain.

Trevor humphed. He dabbed the wound with a clean cloth before applying some salve. With one last tug, he tied off the dressage and he was done. Sypha rolled her shoulder a few times to test it. It felt a little tight but satisfactory. She retied her smock and put back her robe.

“We should restock as soon as we can,” he said while gathering the bloody gauze for disposal.

Although they loaded the wagon with supplies and equipment from his family’s estate before they left, it was nothing in the way of sustenance. Trevor turned down anything that came from Dracula’s castle for obvious reasons.

“What’s the closest town from here?”

Sypha paused and pulled up her memory store of the map of the region. “Ordon is at most half a day’s journey from here.”

“Ordon?” he repeated slowly, tapping his chin. “Is there another town or village? It doesn’t have to be very big.”

“The next closest town is Arges, but it will take at least three days to reach that. What’s wrong with Ordon?”

“Well,” Trevor began. Unexpectedly he became preoccupied with something in the wagon. “I might not be very welcomed there.”

“What do you mean? What did you do?” Sypha demanded. She got up to see what he was doing. The answer had better not be because he hit someone.

He waved his hand around. “I might have punched someone.”

“Punched someone?”

“Maybe punched the alderman in the face.”

“I don’t believe it.” Sypha threw her hands up in the air and stomped away. “Why am I not surprised.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Not your fault? Then explain to me, why did you punch him?”

Trevor jumped out of the wagon and handed her a blanket. He opened his mouth to speak only to stop and close it. “Honestly, I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember? How can you forget something like that?”

“I don’t have your gift of memory, Sypha,” he countered. He wrapped himself in his blanket and sat down with his back against the base of a tree. “Sometimes I forget things. Sometimes there are things I rather not remember. Whatever the reason, he probably deserved it.”

She highly doubted him. “Why do you have to be this way? Things would go a lot easier if you weren’t so rude and were a little nicer.” He burst out a short laugh at her comment. Sypha merely murmured to herself.

Back in Gresit, he claimed he was a nice person. What was his definition of nice supposed to be? Previously, his insolence and foul disposition infuriated her, now they simply irked her. Though truth be told, he was much nicer now, but only after they got to know each other a little better. The man still tested her patience.  
  
“Let me remind you, I am excommunicated. My family circumstances aren’t going to magically change just because Dracula is dead. You will be hard-pressed to find a place where I will be welcomed.”

He had a valid point, not that he didn’t exacerbate his situation by getting into needless altercations. Sypha didn’t care about the rules or politics of the Church, but even someone like her could understand the severity of excommunication, to be excluded, banished from your faith. It was a cruel fate given how devout his family was.

Without any warning, Trevor smirked as if he found his forlorn existence funny. “You’re free to change your mind about having me as a traveling companion.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and glowered. Like he was escaping that easily. No. She had better become custom to his antics and adapt. “We can try to be discreet. If we go in quietly, buy what we need and then leave immediately, we shouldn’t encounter any problems. That is as long you as don’t go around punching people in the face.”

“All right, all right. We will go to Ordon,” Trevor conceded, holding his palms up in mock surrender. “Anyway, I’m sure the alderman forgotten about that incident.”

It was past midday when Sypha saw Ordon in the distance. Ordon was fortified, but it was small compared to Gresit. The road was barren except for a two-wheel cart pulled by a mule. It filled with pumpkins and squashes of various shapes and colors. In the distance, she could see many domesticated goats grazing the fieldside and concluded Ordon was more of a farming community.

Trevor was by her side, arms folded, slouching in his seat. He, of course, had fallen asleep, leaving her with most of the driving. A few times she wanted to kick him awake and hand him the reins, but he had gotten up early to make breakfast so she couldn’t complain. Though she sorely wished he was awake to keep her company. Wearily handling the reins, she urged the horses onward.

“We’re almost there,” she spoke up. She didn’t expect him to hear her, but he promptly responded. He sat up straight and looked ahead.

“All right. Here we go.” He reached back in the wagon for a dark hooded cloak and put it on. He made sure the Belmont emblem was hidden underneath and pulled on the hood.

“Is it really that bad?” Slightly alarmed, Sypha followed his lead and did the same with her Speaker robe.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Who knows, but I’ll do as you say and try not to get into too much trouble.”

She shot him a stern look, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t care for what he was trying to imply.

The sentinel, a wizened old man, cast them a cursory glance and then waved them through. So much for security. Not even a word of inquiry of their identity or business. Compared to Gresit, Ordon was very lax. It took more than two days before the guards of Gresit allowed the Speakers to enter and that took a bit of bribery.

“That was easy.”

“So you say.” Trevor took the reins from her and drove the horses along the dirt road to an empty alley behind a three-story house.

Sypha climbed down, stretching her legs. She didn’t realize how stiff she was from all the sitting.

“We’ll meet back here in a few hours.”

“You are not coming with me?” she asked sounding a little disappointed.

“Do you want me to go with? I thought you wanted us to hurry. That’s your plan, remember.”

“Well, yes, but what are you going to do?”

“I want to poke around a bit and hear the local gossip.”

Confused as to what he was getting at, she blurted out, “You’re not going to a pub to get drunk are you?” She immediately regretted her accusatory tone.

“No,” he told her flatly. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Do you want me to accompany you?”

She held her breath and then composed herself. Not exactly a good start to their journey. The last thing she wanted was to go back to their tense and confrontational ways. “No. I’m fine. You do your thing.”

That seemed to put him at ease and he softened his stance. He said he would take care of the food and supplies and told her to handle her own needs, woman needs as he called it. She almost chuckled at his words. At least he was mindful of that. Shortly after their chat, they departed in opposite directions.

Sypha wandered around aimlessly, not sure what she was looking for. The village, perhaps too small to be of any concern, was untouched by Dracula’s horde. In fact, to all appearances, Ordon seemed unaware of the outside world. Most of the inhabitants only stopped to give her a momentary look before going on with their affair, unlike the people of Gresit, who were very suspicious and unfriendly.

Before long she came upon the market square and found many interesting wares ranging from knitted clothing, leather hides, pottery, and furniture. Most abundant things were dried meat and cheese. Carrying nothing in the way of money, put a limit on what she could acquire, but that didn’t stop her from trying. She could be quite persuasive when the situation called for it.

It wasn’t long before her shoulder bag was half full with a variety of items. Not bad for someone with no money, she thought to herself. Unfortunately, she didn’t find everything she was looking for and she had already scoured the entire square. Perhaps, if she headed in the direction Trevor went, she would find more stalls.

Retracing her steps back to the covered wagon, there was no sign of Trevor, but that didn’t matter. It was too early anyway. She walked a few yards down the road to where she last saw him, when unexpectedly someone grabbed a hold of her elbow. It took her only a split second to react and she spun out of the grip to face her perpetrator. Fight or flight, she was ready.

Her would-be assailant turned out to be Trevor Belmont.

“Trevor, what are you doing?”

Panting, he pulled back his hood to reveal his face in the sunlight. “No time. Let’s go.” He reached for her arm again and started ushering her back to the wagon.

“What do you mean?” Sypha demanded. Feeling irritated and alarmed, she did not enjoy being manhandled by him and his breath reeked of alcohol. “You said you weren’t going to drink.”

“I never said that. You asked me if I was going to get drunk, which you can see, I am not.”

“Don’t try to be clever,” she snapped. “You know what I meant.” To think, she had thought him a changed man.

“Can we discuss this at another time please?”

They were nearly upon their wagon when a group of unknown men appeared and surrounded them.

Trevor groaned. “For god’s sake.”

Clutching his arm with both her hands, Sypha whispered, “What did you do?”

He didn’t reply to her but simply directed his attention to the lead man. “I don’t want any trouble. If you let pass us, we’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

One of the men shook his head. “No, Donis wants to see you. You can’t leave yet.”

Donis? Who was that? Could he be the alderman? She wondered what kind of man he was and why Trevor disliked him so much. So far the men surrounding them weren’t threatening, just blocking their route, but that could escalate at any point. If need be, she was prepared to do a little bit of magic to send them running.

It wasn’t long before a lone rider appeared and dismounted. A tanned man with a thick mustache made his way through the crowd to face them.

Trevor simpered, the other man scowled.

“You got a lot of nerve coming back here, after what you did.”

“Fuck you!”

That earned Trevor a swift punch to the jaw. He fell over backward and unceremoniously landed on his rump to the laughter of the crowd. Sypha only wanted to hang her head in shame. Did she really expect him to behave like a rational adult?

“Now we’re even,” Donis declared, shaking out his hand.

Piping-mad, Trevor scrambled to his feet, ready to knock the living daylight out of him, but Sypha wasn’t having any of that. She gripped his arm with all the strength she could muster. “Stop it,” she hissed.

Lucky for him, Donis wasn’t in the mood to engage him and turned his attention to the masses. “Okay, settle down. Everyone just go back to your business. There’s nothing to see here.”

Crowd slowly dispersed, albeit disappointed at the lack of action and drama.

After everybody left, Donis focused his attention squarely on Trevor. “Still a hothead like always.”

“And you’re still a conceited bastard,” Trevor spat out.

He only shook his head and walked back to his horse. “Come on, I have a job for you.”

That piqued Trevor’s interest and his surly expression suddenly vanished.

They rode in a wooden two-wheeled cart pulled by ox. Donis and Trevor sat in the front while Sypha climbed in the back. She didn’t know where they were heading, but Donis said it wasn’t very far and he would explain once they got there. The alderman didn’t make any inquires as to who she was and Trevor didn’t bother to make any formal introductions. All very rude in Sypha’s eyes, but she let the matter pass since the situation seemed urgent.

The entire trip was made in silence, rather disappointing since Sypha was hoping to glean a little information from the two.

They soon reached a wide-opened field and the putrid stench of rotting flesh was overpowering. The pasture was littered with goat corpses.

In the time it took Donis to tie the ox to the fence post, Trevor was already at the scene of the carnage. Sypha hurriedly trailed after him.

“What happened here?” She used the sleeve of her robe to covered her nose, but the effort was pointless.

“Not sure,” he answered slowly. He squatted down to examine one of the goats, pulling out a small knife to prod at the remains.

Sypha did the same, minus the poking with the knife. The goat’s internal organs were mangled beyond recognition. Not that she could identify goat innards in the first place.

She wondered how Trevor could stand the smell. He didn’t seem fazed at all. Maybe he was oblivious to all things smelly. It would certainly explain a few things. She almost gagged when she saw him dip his finger in the strange black goo and taste it. Honestly, what possible purpose did that serve?

“How long has this been happening?” he asked.

“I say about two months. We noticed one or two goats killed every so often, but nothing to this degree. I always assumed it was wolves or wild dogs, but we’ve never been able to find them.”

Trevor methodically scrutinized a few more carcasses and the surrounding ground while Donis quietly observed.

Sypha naturally pretended to be keeping an eye on Trevor, when in reality she was watching the man beside her. He didn’t seem to be a disagreeable man. She wondered how he knew Trevor. She was tempted to make conversation with the alderman, but decided now was not the time.

With his inspection complete, Trevor made his way over to the two of them. “I have good news and I have bad news.”

“Just say it, Belmont. No need to make a show out of it.”

Trevor smirked. “Congratulations, it’s a warg, or commonly known as hellhound. From the tracks, I say there’s only one.”

“Only one slaughtered all these goats,” Donis exclaimed incredulously.

“I haven’t even gotten to the bad news.”

“That wasn’t the bad news?”

“It’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?!”

“How can you tell?” Sypha asked. Hellhounds were a part of Dracula’s night horde. With no master to direct them, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to see a few of them running loose, causing problems for people.

“The goats are missing their hearts and the black substance. Only happens when it’s about to reproduce.”

“I thought demons spawn straight from hell.”

“And how does hell make them? Hellhounds still eat and breed like any other ordinary animal.”

“Didn’t Dracula create them? They do his bidding.” Sypha interrupted, clearly puzzled. She never really stopped to consider the origin of the night horde.

“He didn’t simply wave his hand and willed them into existence.” Trevor stopped and grumbled a rude noise.

Donis slowly moved his head to stare at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Dracula?”

Sypha realized, he did not know. How could he? Who could possibly know? “There is no need to fear. Dracula is no more. We defeated him.” The moment the words left her mouth, she felt absurd, almost like a braggart. They had no proof, only her words. Any remains of Dracula were carried away into the night sky.

Donis did not say anything, his face full of skepticism and confusion.

She spoke again. “It’s all part of the Story. The soldier, hunter, and scholar….”

Instead of providing reassurance, he grew more and more alarmed.

Trevor huffed. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Do you want me to take of this or not? Because I’ll tell you right now, that one lone hellhound is going to turn into many hellhounds unless we take care of it immediately.”

“Yes! Do whatever it takes. Just get rid of it.”

A brief discussion about what was needed to be done ensued. Of course, there was reluctance on Donis’s end, but the matter was quickly settled when Trevor reminded him they were working on a time constraint.

When they arrived back to town, Donis left them to their own devices. He and Sypha hurried off to their wagon to pick up some gear.

“Do you think we can find the hellhound in time? It could be anywhere.”

“It’s already quite comfortable here so it’s only a matter of catching it when strikes again. It should be easy with your help.”

That filled Sypha with an immense sense of pride. “So what is the plan?”

His plan was not as exciting as she had anticipated. It simply involved camping overnight at a farm. She became slightly dejected when she discovered her role was to help keep guard over the goats. A downgrade from her recent battle with vampires.

She hastily chided herself. She shouldn’t be expecting to save the world every day and goats were just as important, especially to the people of Ordon, whose livelihood depended on them.

By this time it was growing very late and from her recollection, tonight would be an old moon, providing a sufficient amount of light. They selected a spot in the thicket near the farmhouse. The night was calm and cloudless and she could faintly see the vague shape of goats in the distance. She counted a total of 23 goats. The majority of them crowded together and were resting on the ground. Every now and then she could hear them bleat.

Here they were, their second night together. Trevor had yet again found his usual resting place underneath a tree. He was quite, his face was hard to read under the low light.

“Do you think we will find the hound tonight?”

“I don’t know. It might take several nights before we see it. Or maybe we are already too late.”

Either scenario was discouraging.

“What if the latter happened?”

“Then Donis will have more to worried about than just a few goats.”

She hummed to herself, contemplating the entire situation. Like learning a new language, hunting required practice, patience, and endurance. It seemed so much easier when monsters attack head-on instead of hiding and sneaking about. There was no waiting involved. They appeared and they dispatched them. The real hard work was disposing of the remains, which Trevor was very adamant about being done properly and thoroughly.

Sypha did not know when she dozed off, but it was long enough. An irritated voice awoke her. It took her a moment to realize it was Trevor’s.

“You don’t need to be here. We can handle this on our own.”

“These are my goats. If you think I’m going to let them all get eaten, you better think again,” Donis retorted in a hushed tone.

“Do whatever you want. Just don’t get in my way.”

Sypha stayed still and listened. No one spoke for a long time.

“You seemed different, Belmont. Not as testy as I remember.”

There was no response.

Donis continued unperturbed. “Has nothing to do with that pretty girl you’re with?”

“You talk too much.”

He only laughed, then the voices ceased.

She didn’t know how time had passed before she drifted back to sleep again. Then there was a light touch on her shoulder.

“Sypha,” Trevor whispered. “Wake up. It’s here!”

Fighting off the lethargy, she struggled to regain her senses. “Where is it?”

“Hurry!” In his hands, Donis held a sickle.

“Be quiet and come with me.”

They edged their way through foliage and made their way to the entrance of the pasture. Sypha still not fully awake, stumbled as she traversed the rocky ground. Trevor, noticing her efforts to keeping up with him, slowed down and lent her a hand. In the field, she could hear the panicked bleating of the goats.

They stopped when they saw a large shadowy shape hovering over a lifeless goat. The light of the moon was enough for her to see the mangled black fur and many spikes running down its back.

“Now what?”

“Shut up! I told you to not interfere.” He turned Sypha, his eyes fixed squarely on her. “I’m going to circle around to the other side. When I give you the signal, I want you to create a wall of fire around me and the hellhound. The same as Gresit. Do you understand?”

Sypha nodded her head.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Just stay here with her and be quiet! I swear I’m going to hit if you don’t shut up.”

Donis became indignant at his threat, but at least he wasn’t anxious.

Under the cover of darkness, Trevor swiftly went around the pasture. The hound was too preoccupied to notice anything and continued to tear apart the goat it had just killed.

Creeping close to the ground, he maneuvered closer and closer to the unsuspecting creature, his whip in his hand.

She waited with bated breath.

“Now Sypha!”

With the wave of her hands, she cast her magic. A spike of fire erupted from a single point and spread rapidly circling around to the other end, capturing the hellhound and Trevor together. The hound startled by the fire bolted towards him. The sound of its growl rose above the roar of flame, but Trevor stood his ground. He uncoiled his whip and watched as the distance between the two of them grew smaller and smaller. The enraged hellhound showed no sign of slowing down. Finally, at the right moment, he pulled back and unleashed a powerful lash at it.

It was over.

Sypha made a gesture with her hands and called away the flames. “Well, that was easy,” she remarked cheerfully. She noticed Donis was silent and had dropped his sickle.

Trevor had gone through the trouble cutting up the beast, easier to dispose of, he said. He also confirmed the creature had not given birth so no little hellhounds to worry about. Donis was cleaning up the remains of three dead goats. Along with the hellhound, their bodies would be burned and their bones buried far away from here. Out of curiosity, his hands brushed across the grass where the fire had supposedly burned and found no scorch mark.

“You’re a witch!?” he blurted out loud.

“Oh God,” Trevor mumbled in the background.

Sypha ignored him and calmly explained, “I am not a witch. I am a Speaker, a scholar of magic.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes!”

Donis wisely didn’t pursue the matter any further. “I meant no disrespect. I have never met a Speaker before.”

“It’s a common mistake.”

He was about to leave to help Trevor with the work when she suddenly stopped him. “Can ask something of you?”

“Go ahead.”

“Could you tell me what was the quarrel between you and Trevor?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head.

“I normally don’t take issue to his brazen behavior, but he had gone too far. He insulted our cheese.”

Sypha looked stunned and perplexed. “Cheese?”

Donis clarified, “The people of Ordon take great pride in our cheese. That drunken fool started ranting and raving how it was the worst thing he had eaten. Of course, that was going to upset a few of my men.”

“You two started a fight over cheese?”

“He had beaten up half the people at the tavern before I could intervene,” he argued, sounding very defensive.

“I understand now. Thank you.” Sypha hurried away, thinking why are men so stupid.

After the work was done, they rested a bit and had a late breakfast at the inn. Trevor wanted to leave as soon as possible, but Donis had caught him just as he finished hitching the horses to the wagon. He dragged Trevor over to an empty alley to talk in private.

Sypha peered over to see him looking very uncomfortable and irritated. At least they were civil towards each other. When he came back, he was carrying a large burlap sack.

“What’s that?”

He handed her the sack and she peeped inside.

“He gave them to me only to annoy me.”

“There’s so much cheese,” she exclaimed. “How are we supposed to finish it all?”

“I don’t care,” he grumbled unhappily. “Throw them away for all I care.”

She paid no attention to his disdain. Instead, she grabbed one out from the sack with the intention of sampling it, but the rind proved too hard for her to break by hand. Seeing her difficulty, Trevor took out his knife.

“Wait,” she gasped in horror. She moved the goat cheese out of his reach. “Isn’t that the same knife you used on those dead goats yesterday?”

“It’s clean.”

She remained unconvinced.

He sighed heavily and went to find another knife in the wagon. It wasn’t a problem since he brought plenty of them.

After cutting off a piece of cheese for her, Trevor took reins and drove the wagon out of Ordon.

Sypha contentedly nibbled on her cheese, wondering what the next adventure will be.

**Author's Note:**

> OMG! This took me nine months to write. I can't believe how slow I am. If I ever write a second chapter, you probably won't see it until next year. XD
> 
> I got this idea after someone commented that Trevor was a bit like Han Solo. It does kind of fit. The rogue who doesn't want to help, but ends up helping anyways. That would make Alucard Luke Skywalker, Sypha Leia Organa and Dracula Darth Vader. It works!
> 
> If you see the Star Wars reference, then you know why it's there. If you don't, don't worry about it. It might be too hard to see.


End file.
